


Growing Into Yourself

by BethanyDarkRose



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anorexia, Anorexic Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne Has Issues, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne-centric, Eating Disorders, Fainting, Mentioned Alfred Pennyworth, Mentioned Jason Todd, Supportive Batfamily (DCU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethanyDarkRose/pseuds/BethanyDarkRose
Summary: "Damian had never been insecure about his appearance. In fact, he’d always been confident and self-assured. But recently he found himself pausing in front of mirrors and staring at his reflection in disgust."AKA Damian develops anorexia when he starts to hit puberty and no one really notices until something drastic happens.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Comments: 13
Kudos: 271





	Growing Into Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS TALK AND DESCRIPTIONS OF EATING DISORDERS. IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU PLEASE DON'T READ!!!
> 
> This story has been laying around in my notes for a few months and I figured I might as well post it. This is based loosely on my experience with eating disorders so this is a way for me to sort of vent. Damian is slightly OOC but I feel like that is almost inevitable when adding a large non-canon change to a character's life. Also sorry for any grammatical errors. It’s been a WHILE since I posted anything anywhere. Let me know if you want a continuation.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters. DC does.

Damian hit puberty late. It was something he got from Talia apparently. Where Bruce looked like an adult at 16; Damian was just starting to hit his growth spurt. 

However, despite having his mother’s puberty timing, he still inherited his father’s body type. 

He was growing in height but he was also growing in width. His once flat stomach and somewhat thin arms were now putting on weight as he gained muscle. 

Not much, but enough that his costume wasn’t fitting right and he was growing out of all his clothes. 

Damian had never been insecure about his appearance. In fact, he’d always been confident and self-assured. But recently he found himself pausing in front of mirrors and staring at his reflection in disgust. 

He found himself measuring his arms, biceps, and legs with his hands; finding them larger every time.

And it bothered him. 

It wasn’t that he was fat. He knew he wasn’t fat. 

But the speed in which he was growing and putting on weight was affecting him more than he’d like to admit.

So much so... that he tried to find a way to stop it. 

He didn’t mean for it to come as far as it did. Or to escalate as quickly as it had. In all honesty, it had just started with skipping lunch a few times. 

But a few times, turned to everyday and about a month in; he realized he didn’t even get hungry during the day anymore. 

He didn’t notice a big change in his size. He was still eating breakfast, dinner, and dessert on occasion. 

He knew he wasn’t overweight. But he hated the way he felt when he compared his arm width with Dick’s or Tim’s. 

The logical part of his brain was telling him that he was overreacting. That people inherit different body types based on their genes.

He reminded himself that Dick came from a long line of acrobats. It made sense that he would have a lean shape.

He also reminded himself of Tim’s parents. He’d only seen them a handful of times at galas; when they actually came in town, but both had very lean shapes as well. 

He reminded himself of his father’s figure. Muscular and broad-shouldered. Weak, small, or helpless was never used to describe him and a major reason for that had to do with his build.

But despite all of that, the thought of getting any larger made him sick to his stomach.

**XXXX**

...it was about a month after he stopped feeling hungry at lunch, that he started skipping breakfast. 

He ‘d say he preferred walking to school and that he’d grab something on the way. 

It was a bit of a far trek but it calmed him at the thought of how many calories he was probably burning and the rest of the family just chalked it up to Damian’s usually abnormal behavior.

Everyday, he’d go to the same café and order a water and a breakfast sandwich. 

The first few days he felt slightly guilty about just throwing the food out. It was wasteful and his mother had always taught him that it was idiotic to waste anything that was useful. 

It was day four when he noticed a homeless man sitting a bit further down the street with a sign that said, “will work for food.”

Everyday he walked to school he would buy a sandwich and a water and then he would give it to the man. 

At first the man refused, claiming that he couldn’t take food from a kid. Until Damian spun a lie that he had eaten inside and that he had more than enough money to spare. 

A few weeks into this and he noticed a change in his appearance. His arms seemed skinnier; as did his legs. 

He felt great for a few days... until that wasn’t enough. 

He needed to know how much he weighed. The number. But he didn’t want anyone to get suspicious. So he went to the cafe on the way to school and asked for cash back. Then he stopped by a pharmacy and bought a scale. 

He didn’t dare take it out of his backpack till he was safely locked in his bathroom. Then he unboxed it, laid it out and weighed himself. 

126.4 pounds.

He felt himself gasp slightly. 

The last time he’d weighed himself he was 145. 

He panicked slightly about just how much weight he’d lost... but he felt an odd sense of pride at the new number. 

He then did some calculations and technically, he wasn’t underweight when going by the BMI scale. 

He figured he’d stop if things got too serious and that he wouldn’t change anything he was doing already. 

**XXXX**

The next two weeks consisted of Damian weighing himself everyday and almost religiously counting his caloric intake at dinner. 

He hated it, but every pound he dropped had him feeling a spark of excitement. 

The weight of the problem didn’t hit him till he’d hit 110.4 pounds and he was officially underweight. 

He’d started wearing baggier clothing because for one, he was cold... like all the time... but mostly because he didn’t want to raise suspicion. 

Deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong. Yet, he continued to rationalize it to himself.

The revelation of his being underweight sparked a wave of excitement but also left him feeling nauseous from anxiety and guilt. 

_How had he let it get this bad?_

_Why hadn’t anyone noticed?_

_Had they noticed and they just hadn’t commented?_

He felt his heart rate speeding up as he turned and really looked at himself in the mirror. 

He’d obviously lost weight. 

His collarbones were noticeable as were his ribs that were showing slightly.

For a split second he thought about going and talking to Dick about everything he’d been doing and feeling the past few months but it only took him a minute to push that idea away. 

He was only a pound or two underweight. He didn’t want to worry anyone and he definitely didn’t want anyone pitying him. 

He was fine. 

He would start eating again and put the whole mess behind him. 

No one ever had to know. 

**XXXX**

The next few weeks he tried to eat regularly again. He continued to remind himself that he wasn’t fat and that he needed to fix this himself before things got out of hand. 

Every bite he took he tried to distract himself with the disappointment in his family’s eyes if they found out. 

But most of the time all he could do was picture himself fat. 

He really tried. He forced himself to eat lunch most days and even breakfast... but he found himself prolonging how long he chewed on things and he found himself missing the feeling of drinking water on an empty stomach. 

Still, he told himself he was doing the right thing. 

He started to gain weight back. 

He was no longer underweight but he still wasn’t what he used to be... and yet... he couldn’t help but want to throw a rock at his appearance. 

He felt so conflicted. While part of him knew that he needed to stop starving himself and knew that he should be happy with every pound he gained back; another part of him felt disgusted. Every bite was harder and harder to take and some days he couldn’t force himself to eat anything but a few bites at dinner. 

He was doing a good job... until he wasn't. 

And it was almost as if it was worse than it had been before. He’d barely eat a quarter of his plate at dinner. 

Every time he looked in the mirror he saw fat _fat_ **_fat_**. 

It only took about three weeks for him to fall lower than he’d ever been before 

He was at 104.7 pounds.

He’d stopped going on patrol because most the time just walking far distances left him feeling dizzy and light headed. 

He had bags under his eyes and he was extremely thin. 

He even bought makeup (not that he’d ever tell anyone) and he used it under his eyes so he didn’t look so ill. 

He told everyone that he had a lot of work to do and that’s why he couldn’t patrol. 

Overall he kept saying,

I have it under control   
_I have it under control_  
 _ **I have it under control**_

But everything came crashing down. 

In his English class. He’d skipped breakfast and drank water for lunch. 

He felt tired (which was normal) and cold (which was also normal) but all of a sudden it was like time was slowing. 

He could hear his heart beat in his ears and feel it pounding against his chest. Despite the fast heart rate though he felt like his breathing had slowed down.

He felt extremely dizzy (a feeling he was familiar with) except that this time he wasn’t alone in his room.

He was at school. 

Surrounded by his classmates and his teacher. 

Knowing that the way he felt wasn’t a good sign; he weakly tried to stand up. 

He didn’t even get to a full stand before everything went dark. 

**XXXX**

Bruce was running late for a meeting when he got the call from the school. 

He remembered pleading that Damian hadn’t gotten in a fight... then he wished that’s what had happened. 

_“Your son collapsed in the middle of class. He looked extremely unwell and due to our insurance policy we needed to call a doctor. He is on the way to the hospital now in an ambulance. Gotham general.”_

Bruce didn’t remember leaving the building or getting in the car. He didn’t really register calling Alfred, Damian, Dick, Jason or Tim. 

Jason was across the world at the moment but Bruce knew he’d want to be updated anyway. 

Dick and Tim on the other hand had been staying at the manor the past few months and were both on the way to the hospital. 

Bruce honestly didn’t even check back in until they all arrived and met up outside. 

“Is he okay? Did they say what happened? Why would they send him in an ambulance?” Dick fired off questions. 

“They said he looked unwell.” Bruce replied as they all started heading in. 

Tim stepped in with, “They’re not wrong. We’ve all noticed it. He’s looked sick for a few weeks but he said he was fine.”

Bruce scratched his fingers through his hair, “I should have taken him to a doctor. Maybe he has the flu or something. He hasn’t been eating as much at dinner. Maybe a stomach virus?”

They all stepped out of the elevator and walked towards the front desk. 

“Damian Wayne. I’m his father and these are his brothers.” Bruce spoke urgently to the receptionist. 

She looked down quickly to find his name and the look on her face caused the three men to feel a wave of nerves.

“Hi, yes. Uhm if you’ll please follow me. Damian’s Doctor would like to speak with you privately, Mr. Wayne.”

She somewhat quickly walked down the halls with the other three following her before she came to an office. 

“You three can wait here. I’m going to find Dr. Ullmann.”

Then she was gone. 

“What would require a Doctor to see us privately?” Dick asked fidgeting. 

Tim sat in one of the chairs, “Bad news.”

“Timmy.”

“I’m not gonna sugar coat it, Dick. If it was as simple as dehydration then they probably would have told us or told us to wait out there. They wouldn’t ask to see us privately.”

“Tim’s right.” Bruce said, looking at his oldest, “it may be bad news.” Bruce got up and looked out the window to see if anyone was coming. 

Then he began pacing. 

Finally, after what felt like forever; the Doctor came in. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Mr. Wayne. I’m Dr. Ullmann. Is this everyone?” He asked, shaking Bruce’s hand. 

“These are two of his brothers. He has another but he is out of town and Alfred— he’s at home right now. Is Damian okay?”

“Your son was brought in for passing out and taking almost four whole minutes to regain consciousness. Then he seemed very out of it on the way here and once he’d arrived. Slurred speech, confusion, emotional, fatigued, memory loss. We brought him in and we didn’t need to run many tests before we realized the problem. Your son is extremely malnourished.”

The three of them were in shock; their mouths hanging open. Bruce felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. 

“Malnourished?”

“Yes and extremely underweight. He only weighs 103.6 pounds and for his 5’8 height; that’s very bad. That puts his Body Mass Index at roughly 15.7. A normal range is between 18.5 and 25... does your son have a history with eating disorders?”

Bruce was at a loss for words so Dick stepped in, “Not that we know of.”

“Is there a family history?”

Bruce seemed to regain his voice and stumbled out a desperate, “No!”

But Tim stood up, “Bruce, what about Talia?”

He paused in thought and the doctor looked back and forth between them. 

“We have not done all the tests on Damian but If I had to guess I would say he has anorexia.”

“Can— can boys even have that?” Bruce asked. He wasn’t being judgmental. In fact, he sounded desperate and horrified. 

Before the doctor could speak Tim spoke up again with a, “Yes, anyone can have an eating disorder.”

The doctor nodded at Tim, “It’s true. While women make up a significantly larger percentage of those with eating disorders, men do suffer from them every dayl and where your son is at, I would recommend an in-stay treatment.”

Bruce reeled at that and Dick stood up, “You mean you want us to send him away? That’s not happening!” 

The doctor put his hands up in a surrendering motion before sighing, putting his clipboard down, and looking towards all of them, “I’m not telling you what to do. Sometimes treatment at a rehab facility is not right for people... but sometimes it is. Damian has progressed pretty far. He’s not just slightly underweight. He is passing out at school and I will be shocked if this is the first time he’s blacked out. There are other treatment options. There’s out-patient rehab. It’s where he could stay at home and come to the rehab facility everyday. You could leave him here in our care. We have an excellent program for teens with diseases. They continue school but get treatment here. You could even just take him home and do all of this yourself. It’s up to you, Mr. Wayne. I have pamphlets here of treatment centers nearby, the one we have at this location, and how to help at home.”

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a stack of pamphlets. 

“I’ve seen many cases of eating disorders and it comes with many other issues. Things generally feel like they’re getting worse before they get better. Especially, if the issue was not priorly known.”

“I-I need to make a phone call. I need to call his mother and see if— with family history and—“

The doctor nodded, “of course.”

Dick piped in next, “What is going on with Damian now? Has he been told what’s happening?”

The doctor nodded again, “when he got here we ran some tests and I am usually brought in when someone is suspected of having an eating disorder. I sat down with him and tried to explain the severity of the situation but he denied it. I want you all to know that this is not uncommon behavior. Every case is different but it may comfort you to know that many family members had no idea of any eating disorder till a situation like this occurs. I also want to let you know that it’s not uncommon for patients to not grasp the severity of the issue.”

“So he’s denying starving himself too?” Tim asked, leaning forward in his chair. 

“Yes, he said he forgot to eat breakfast and worked through lunch but skipping two meals wouldn’t leave him in this state. I tried to ask more questions but he refused to talk to me or look at me. He’s very... stubborn.”

Dick choked out a wet laugh, “Yeah... he is.”

“I did get him to drink a meal replacement smoothie. It was either that or a feeding tube and that seemed to startle him a bit. The smoothies are actually very helpful when rehabilitating those with an eating disorder. Sometimes they find it easier to drink things than they do to physically eat.”

Bruce put his hand up, shook his head, and then walked out of the office with his phone in hand.

“When can we see him?” Dick asked. 

“Now pretty much. I would recommend one at a time. We don’t want to stress him out anymore than he already is... eating disorders are different in the fact that they’re personal and very private. Being caught, for some, it’s almost like having the people you care the most about read your diary in front of you. It’s extremely uncomfortable and scary. If one of you feels you can get him to open up; that may be the best person to go in… at least at first.”

Both of them nodded and Tim turned to Dick, “you should go in. You seem to always be the one who can get through to him.”

Dick nodded with determination but also obvious concern for his brother. 

“He’s right down the hall. I’ll take you to him once your father gets back in the room.”

Both vigilantes nodded as they waited for Bruce to come back in. He looked to be fuming and absolutely wrecked. 

“Bruce, Dr. Ullmann says he can take us to go see Damian now.” Dick spoke up but Bruce immediately shook his head. 

“Do you mind giving us a minute?”

The doctor nodded, “of course. I’ll check on a few patients and be back.”

Right before he left Bruce spoke up, “thank you. And there's a history of anorexia and bulimia on his mother’s side.”

The doctor nodded, wrote a few things down and left them alone in the room. 

Tim stood up and crossed his arms, “So Talia had an eating disorder?”

“No.”

“Nyssa?” 

“No.”

“Then who?” Tim continued. 

“Apparently Talia had another sister and she had bulimia at first and then anorexia later.”

“I’ve never heard of her.” Tim commented. 

Bruce nodded before bluntly saying, “She died.”

Dick looked sick, “from—?”

“From her eating disorder. She died because her heart gave out.”

“Stop.” Dick mumbled quickly as he started pacing, “that won’t be Dami.”

Bruce shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face, “not if we put him in an in-patient treatment facility.”

Dick reeled, “No! Bruce—“

“Dick!” He held up his hand to silent the oldest, “I am out of my league here. I can’t risk his life over his comfort.”

“We can’t! He’ll never forgive us! Bruce, you know how Dami is. He puts on this bravado of being confident but he is socially awkward. He doesn’t know— we can’t do this to him. We can help him. I’ll stay with him all the time if I have to. You can’t send him away Bruce.”

“What if that’s the only way to save him?! I didn’t— until twenty minutes ago, I didn’t know that boys could have an eating disorder.”

“He’s not like other kids. He needs his family. He needs our support. He doesn’t need to be locked in a rehab center with adults he doesn’t know and a bunch of kids he won’t be able to bond with.”

Tim has been silent during the whole exchange and Bruce turned towards him, “What is your opinion?”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, “Obviously the rehab centers are going to be more qualified and better prepared to handle someone with an eating disorder. We would get to pick which one so we could make sure it’s legit. Dr. Ullman seems to really care about his patients so an in-patient stay here would probably be the better in-stay option.” 

Dick looked crushed and Bruce looked somewhat relieved to have someone backing his opinion but Tim continued. 

“With that the being said, Damian isn’t every other kid. He was raised by assassins. He grew up learning to never trust other people. It was drilled into him to assume that everyone has an ulterior motive. So... even if he is in a facility where people care, he may not feel it. It also may do more harm than good to his mental health and a good mental state is a massive part of recovery. He trusts Dick. He trusts us.”

“Not enough to tell us what was going on.” Bruce commented. 

Tim threw his hands up, “I don’t think we should make a decision till we talk to Damian. See where his head’s at.” 

Bruce nodded, “Okay, alright.”

Tim sighed in relief and continued, “I think Dick should go in first. He was the first to ever break through with Damian. I think he has the best shot of doing it now.”

The dark knight looked back and forth between his two kids and nodded, “alright.”

**XXXX**

Five minutes later they were standing in front of Damian’s door. 

“Are you ready for this?” Bruce asked his first robin. 

“...no... but I need to try.”

With that he took a steadying breath and went in. 

He had to restrain the gasp he felt coming on at the sight of Damian pale and thin in a hospital gown. 

His collar bones could be seen jutting out where his hospital gown was drooping over him. 

Dick wanted to cry, honestly. He looked so small and it took seeing him like this to notice how big he’d gotten from when he was his robin. 

He’d grown a lot in height and he looked older... but he also looked so small now. 

Damian looked up when the door opened and his eyes shined with a fear you’d only see if you knew him. Then he realized it was Dick and his face scrunched up slightly as he turned away again. 

Dick shut the door behind him and walked over to sit on Damian’s bed. Then he smiled gently and said, “Hi.”

“Hi.” was the sixteen year old’s response. 

_Should I ask if he’s alright?_   
_Or ask why he didn’t tell me about what was going on?_   
_Should I tell him that everything is going to be alright?_

All these thoughts raced through Dick’s head yet he settled on, “The doctor says that you haven’t been eating.”

Damian’s eyes widened slightly in a way that made Dick’s heart quench. He‘d never seen him look so scared. 

He opened his mouth as if to respond and then turned to look away from Dick as he shook his head with a frown. 

“He also says you won’t talk to anyone.”

More silence. 

Not wanting to get him worked up, Dick reached his hand out and grabbed Damian’s. 

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. You can tell me anything, Dami. I mean it.”

Dick felt tears pricking his eyes as Damian turned back to him and he had tears filling his eyes, “Everything just escalated so quickly.” He confessed in a broken voice. 

This was wrong. 

Damian didn’t cry. 

Dick would never judge him for it but he never openly cried to Dick. 

Dick nodded because he couldn’t trust his voice as he waited for Damian to continue, “and— and I— it didn’t— I just didn’t want to get fat, you know? Cause I was— I was growing out of all my clothes.”

Damian was looking at Dick with such a raw desire to be understood and not judged. He’d never seen Damian look so vulnerable and insecure. So he tried to portray only understanding and encouragement to Damian. Which he guessed he’d succeed in as the younger of the two continued. 

“I just— I just figured that I’d skip lunch a few times. I sit alone anyway and it wouldn’t be bad to catch up on some work...”

Dick’s heart ached at Damian not having friends at school. 

“But— but a few lunches turned into every lunch and eventually I wasn’t even hungry anymore and I just didn’t see the point in eating if I wasn’t hungry...”

Dick squeezed his hand in encouragement. 

“I wasn’t noticing much of a difference though. I was still getting bigger and I know— I _know_ that I’m not fat. I- I know I’m not overweight— but I was just getting so big so fast and I— I just wanted to slow down or— I —“ 

Damian’s eyes were fluttering all around the room and back to Dick as he tried to find the words to explain. 

“I just wanted to lose a few pounds. It wouldn’t hurt me. I was well in the normal range... so I stopped eating breakfast too. I started to walk to school... cause I wanted to work off any calories I’d have to eat at dinner.”

A tear fell down Damian’s cheek before he quickly wiped it away with a roll of the eye and a shake of his head 

“I made childish excuses.” He sounded disappointed in himself. 

“I would give my breakfast to a homeless man every day and I told myself I was only skipping breakfast for him...”

He looked up at Dick again to make sure that he still saw the same level of acceptance. 

He did. 

“I was losing weight... I knew I was. I didn’t know how much till I weighed myself... I’d lost almost 20 pounds. I knew I should stop but I wasn’t technically underweight so I kept doing what I was doing... and then... a few weeks later... I was underweight.”

His voice shook and he paused to wipe another tear off his face. Dick spoke up with, “Why didn’t you come to me?”

Damian’s voice came out wobbly, “I wanted to. I was going to— but I thought I could fix it myself. I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

Dick reached out and ran his fingers through Damian’s hair, “Don't ever not tell me something because you’re scared to worry me, Dami.”

“I was almost back to my normal weight when... I just couldn’t do it anymore. There are things that I missed. Like the feeling of drinking water on an empty stomach...and the way it felt to lose weight. So... I stopped eating again except it was worse this time.”

Dick let out a breath, “Because you stopped even really eating dinner either.”

Damian nodded, “I didn’t want to worry you all but I just— sometimes I can’t bring myself to— eat. I was getting lightheaded when I exercised. Like on patrol and on the way to school. So I stopped patrolling. I didn’t want any of you to notice... so I wore many layers and I... wore makeup to hide the bags under my eyes.” Damian confessed self consciously. 

“We all knew something was going on. We thought you may be sick... I wish I would’ve come and asked you.”

“I would’ve lied. It’s- I’m ashamed.” Damian stated honestly. 

Dick scooted closer to his brother, “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Anorexia is— it’s a disease, Damian.”

He seemed to ignore the comment in favor of asking, “is father angry with me?”

Dick’s breath hitched at the question.

“No. Of course not. He’s scared for you. Eating disorders aren’t something to play around with. But he’s not angry at all. Or disappointed. He just wants to do what’s best for you.”

“And... Drake?”

Despite Tim and Damian’s rocky relationship at first; their hatred for each other had quickly turned into a love—hate relationship. They pretended to hate each other but they were actually fairly close.

“Tim wants to be here for you in any way that you need. Him and Bruce are outside actually. Alfred is at the manor and Jason’s across the world and hasn’t seen Bruce’s message yet.”

Damian let out a breath in an attempt to calm himself, “What’s going to happen now?”

“That’s something we’re all gonna talk about. But I can tell you that you’re going to have all of us standing by your side.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Dick spoke up again with, “would you want to talk to Bruce or Tim?”

“Can you stay?”

Dick smiled, “Of course.”

So Dick got up and told Damian he’d be right back with Bruce and Tim. 

When he walked out he saw both of them standing there and talking with the doctor. 

“Did he talk to you at all?” Dr. Ullman asked. 

Dick nodded, “yeah, uhm good news is that he isn’t in denial about having a problem and he hasn’t ever made himself throw up. I think it’s just anorexia. Not bulimia as well.”

“Did you tell him about Talia?” Bruce asked. 

“No, I didn’t know how you wanted to tell him.” 

“And did you discuss treatment plans?” The doctor asked. 

“No, I was hoping the three of us could go in and we could all talk about it as a family before we made any final decisions.” Dick responded. 

Dr. Ullman nodded, “I’ll give you all time. Just try not to stress him out.”

  
With that left the three of them to go into Damian’s room.

“How is he really?” Tim asked; now that the doctor was gone. 

Dick looked grim, “He’s scared and embarrassed. Apparently this has been going on for a few months. He started eating again when he realized he was underweight but after he gained a lot of weight back; he relapsed. And he was trying to lose weight so fast that it got worse.” 

“Relapse is part of recovery.” Tim responded. 

Bruce hadn’t said much and both his kids turned towards him, “Bruce, you can’t be emotionally constipated about this. Damian needs our full support and our help.”

“No, I know. You’re right. I just— okay. Alright. I’m ready.”

Tim nodded his approval of being ready as well. 

“Just prepare yourselves. He’s— he’s really thin.”

Then with that, Dick opened the door and his grim and concerned expression changed instantly to a comforting smile. 

Dick walked over and sat next to Damian on the bed; then he gently played with Damian’s hair as Tim and Bruce came in. Tim leaned against the wall and Bruce sat in the chair next to the bed. 

Damian was having a hard time maintaining eye contact and after a few minutes of silence where neither Damian or Bruce spoke; Tim spoke up. 

“So Bruce called Talia.”

Damian looked up with wild eyes at that and Tim put his hand out to continue, “We asked if there were eating disorders on her side of the family. She had a sister— not Nyssa— who suffered anorexia and bulimia. Genetics are a significant factor in eating disorders. Especially anorexia and bulimia.”

Damian still hadn’t spoken and Dick just continued to calmly play with Damian’s hair. Bruce let out a breath, drawing all of their attention. 

“Damian, I need you to tell me how to help you here.”

He still didn’t speak. He was clearly uncomfortable and seemed like he was thinking it over but not knowing what to say. 

“A rehab center?”

Tim wanted to facepalm and Dick’s jaw dropped. That was not the way to bring it up. 

Damian tensed up considerably and scooted back in the bed, “You’re going to send me away?”

Tim and Dick at the same time said, “no.” As Bruce responded with, “I just want to help you.”

Damian tried to sit up and look better, “I’m fine. I don’t need to go somewhere.”

The three of them shared a look as Damian was obviously panicking. This was what the doctor meant by not stressing him out. 

“You’re not fine. You are skin and bone. Damian, you could die.” Bruce said quickly. It was like everything they’d talked about had gone out the window. 

“Bruce, stop.”

Everyone was surprised to hear it coming from Tim. 

Bruce stopped talking and everyone looked towards Tim. 

“It’s important for him to know the risks but threatening sending him away isn’t going to help. Mentioning his appearance also probably doesn’t help. Look Damian, if you are set on not going into a facility that’s fine but you have to actively try to get better at home.”

“Okay.” Damian nodded towards Tim. 

Bruce sighed, “Tim, you don’t know what he needs. You are just a few years older than him. He needs—“

“He needs support. Look for about a year when I was in high school; off and on I’d make myself throw up after eating.” 

At all of their wide eyes and dropped jaws he continued with, “I’m okay now. I went to therapy and I got some help from Kon. It wasn’t about my appearance. It was a control thing. My point is that... Damian, I don’t know exactly what you’re going through but I have some experience with eating disorders if you want to talk to someone who kinda gets it. I’m also saying that some people recover better at home. I sure did; with my social anxiety.”

Dick broke the silence with, “Thanks for trusting us with this, Timmy.” Then he turned to Damian, “Would you rather be in a rehab center or at home?”

Damian was quick to respond with, “Home.”

Dick nodded and looked at Bruce, “Home it is.”

**XXXX**

And it was. 

They went home after talking in depth with the doctor about how best to help Damian. 

The first few weeks were the hardest. Damian didn’t want to eat and when he did eat; it was obvious how uncomfortable he felt. 

Then he started gaining weight back and eating became even harder. 

Bruce was also struggling and learning that just ordering Damian to eat wouldn’t accomplish anything. 

He stopped wearing multiple layers and makeup to hide his disease and so it became a lot clearer to the rest of them just how bad it was. 

The reactions from everyone differed. 

Tim and Damian grew a lot closer throughout his recovery because Tim had some level of personal experience with eating disorders. 

Meanwhile Dick and Damian grew closer because Dick had always been Damian’s rock. When Damian didn’t feel like eating, Dick tried to find ways to encourage or help make it easier. 

Bruce struggled. His fear and concern came out in anger which didn’t help anyone. It took him about 3 weeks before he started trying to follow in Dick’s footsteps of finding ways to make it easier on him. 

Jason got back a week later and he dealt with Damian’s situation the same way he dealt with a lot of things. Being straight-forward and cracking inappropriate jokes.

That actually led to Damian and him growing closer as well because when everyone else was treating him like he could break or like he was injured; Jason was still being the same Jason.

Alfred did a lot of research on eating disorders and the types of foods that helped and noticed that Damian was least comfortable when eating something that had a lot of ingredients he didn't know about.

Because of this, Alfred started avoiding recipes for casseroles or stews. 

It took a few months before Damian was healthy physically and mentally enough that the others started to back off a little. 

Then a few more months went by and he was doing so well that it wasn’t even brought up anymore. 

Damian didn’t mind. He was actually relieved by the lack of attention he was receiving. He’d missed being able to grab his own breakfast and eat away from home.

His eating disorder wasn’t gone. 

There were still days that he woke up and the calculator in his head wouldn’t turn off but those days were becoming fewer and farther between. 

He was just thankful that he’d gotten help. At the time it was scary, and embarrassing, and he hated it. But looking back at it; he wouldn’t have wished or anything else.


End file.
